


Dear Brother

by harl0twith4balloon (i_am_op), i_am_op



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:09:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_op/pseuds/harl0twith4balloon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_op/pseuds/i_am_op
Summary: Regulus was merely taking back what rightfully was his from Potter.Sirius was his brother, after all, and Regulus owned him, in body and in mind.
Relationships: Regulus Black/Sirius Black
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Dear Brother

Sirius had been kind in the sense of that it was simply the role of an older brother: kind, caring, and affectionate.

He could've ran several steps beyond Regulus because his brother was a shining light that simply just attracted people to the warmth in a way that Regulus simply couldn't, but he always made sure to trail two steps behind Regulus, looking after him carefully and gently.

For every time Regulus stuttered, Sirius was the one who finished his thoughts. For every time Regulus had gotten ignored, Sirius pulled him into the conversation as seamlessly as possible and allowing Regulus to get a few words in. For every time their father was angry with Regulus, it was Sirius who had yelled back at him and directed the anger towards himself, taking several lashes in lieu of Regulus. 

Sirius was the perfect brother. He was everything Regulus could ask for in an older brother and more, someone who he had come to rely on more than their own parents, someone who Regulus cared and loved the most out of everyone and the feeling was mutual. Regulus wants this to last forever. He wants-- needs Sirius because for every step of the way, it was Sirius who had taken his hands and guided his way and Regulus does not want to experience a world without this constant hands, warm and safe, guiding him along.

It was as if Sirius had existed solely for Regulus and Regulus, alone. Regulus wants Sirius all to himself because this was the duty of older brother that Sirius had and was obligated to do, for Sirius cannot and will not put anything else above Regulus just as Regulus had placed him first over anything. 

He wants Sirius to care for him the same way he cares for Sirius, eternally. 

He does not want anyone to take away this Utopia. 

*

"It's not like I _want_ to fight with them, Reg. They just get on my nerves sometimes. It's not like you actually think what they're saying is reasonable, right?" Sirius says and his arms wrapped around his knees that are pulled to his chest and he looks miffed, sporting a dark purple bruise on his cheeks.

Regulus stretches out a hand and touches the bruise gently, but even that causes Sirius to flinch slightly. "It's not that I agree with them, Sirius. I simply do not wish you to get hurt just because you cannot hold your tongue against our parents. Father is not forgiving and you know mother is particularly stubborn about her ideals."

"That's some stupid ideals she holds," Sirius grumbles underneath his breath. "So what if I want to see the Muggle world. It's not like it's going to kill me."

Regulus scrunched up his brows and struggles not to lash out in anger at his brother for being so reckless. He would rather keep Sirius contained forever in their house if it meant Sirius would be danger-free. After all, he could not stop being Regulus' brother, even after death; Regulus simply won't allow him to escape. 

Placing a hand over his brother's, he squeezed it tightly and when Sirius weakly squeezed his hands back, Regulus' heart soared.

"Don't be rash, brother. They surely will if they find out your magic. I don't particularly hate Muggles, but they can be cruel once they know the truth. I don't want you to get hurt--"

"You're starting to sound like them, Reg. They're poisoning your mind with their stupid traditions and ideals. I'm so sick of it." Sirius slaps his hands away from Regulus' grasp and something in Regulus stirs and he wants to grab it back, to force it to intertwine with his owns because Sirius should never push him away. It simply won't do.

His brother should accept him no matter what. He used to be like that, when they were younger and Regulus did not know why Sirius was always covered in bruises. His brother would lean close to him, burrowing his face into his hair and would gently pat him on the back, soothing all his worries as Regulus' leaned into the only person he trusted.

Brother, he would say, looking at Sirius in awe as if he were an untouchable being, someone out of his grasp and only someone who he could only look at and admire. And then, his brother would smile, laugh sometimes too, calling back Regulus and he'd tell him stories, sneak him treats from the house-elves, and sometimes nick their father's wand to do some magic he had learned from the books from their library to entertain Regulus.

He did not know when he changed though. Was it when Regulus had started to comb his hair the exact way his mother ordered or refer to Muggleborns as Mudbloods the way his father ordered him to, or had it been when Sirius had offered to bring him back to the Muggle towns that Regulus had become used to since his childhood, but he had refused because he did not trust the Muggles anymore. 

It does not matter though, because Sirius should accept Regulus for everything like a good older brother should. He should bend his wills and his wants for Regulus because Sirius was Regulus' older brother and he should be his, in body and in mind. Regulus does not want to see Sirius laugh with undeserving Muggles as he paraded around and pretended to be them, Sirius was better than a Muggle.

Muggles did not deserve Sirius, not even other wizards deserved Sirius-- not that Sirius was particularly fond of any as they all had been ones their father selectively chose for him to meet-- only Regulus should receive Sirius' everything.

"Brother," Regulus says, slowly and deliberately. "That hurt."

It did not. It only made Regulus angry, if anything, the ball of anger flooding inside him and rushing like a dam. 

Instaneously, Sirius pauses in his tantrum, tensing up slightly and his look of irritation melts into one of worry and guilt as he reaches out his hands to take back Regulus'. Regulus stays limp, allowing Sirius to take his hands, and Sirius takes that as an okay to bring Regulus into a hug.

It was warm, Regulus thought. As always. Regulus' own anger left him easily and Regulus raised his arms to hug Sirius back, clinging onto the warmth he was familiar with for all these years. 

"I'm sorry, Reg. I know it isn't your fault and I guess agreeing with them is better than you getting hit. I was being idiotic, forgive me little brother," Sirius says and his voice had completely changed for the biting and wounded voice he had to one of gentleness and care.

Yes, Regulus thinks to himself. This was the older brother he wanted and expected.

His brother was easy to soften, for as much as he disagreed with every his family stood for and what Regulus had become, he did not want any injury or harm come his way, no matter how much his own body was covered in bruises and slashes.

Regulus patted Sirius on his back. "It's okay, brother. I forgive you, just don't do it again. I was scared. It reminded me of father."

The arm around him freezes and Regulus feels Sirius' fist bunch up Regulus' robes.

He did not reminds him of father at all. Sirius was much too emotionally charged to be their father, with his cold, calculating gaze and his unfeeling hits, as if their beating was a bothersome chore that he was forced to partake in. Sirius was much too gentle, much too passionate, and much too kind to be their father, but Sirius hates being compared father the most because despite how much they are different, they look identical.

People always tell Sirius he looks like their father and Sirius always snaps at them. It is only Regulus he does not snap at. 

"I'll never hurt you," The arms wrapped around himself grow tighter and Regulus smiles into Sirius' shoulders. "I won't ever do it again. I'm nothing like father, I swear."

Pausing deliberately, Regulus stays silent. He just burrows into his brother's shoulders and breathes in his scent. They had similar scents as they were brothers, but Sirius smelled different from everyone in the household. Maybe it was his frequent trips to the Muggle world or the fact that he was just simply Sirius, but he smelled of lavender with hints of citrus. It was intoxicating and Regulus often just leaned into his brother and hugged him, just to smell the scent for hours.

"Say something please. I'm extremely sorry Regulus," Sirius pleas, calling out Regulus' first name as he pressed his cheeks into Regulus' hair. "Don't be mad."

Regulus hums. "I'm not mad. Don't worry brother, I won't hate you for something as trivial as this. You are my brother, after all, and someone I care for the most. You know this, right?"

Excitedly, Sirius pulls away from the hug with a big smile etched onto his face. "Of course, Reg. And you're my favorite too, I love you the most out of everyone in this whole world."

Pleased, Regulus gave a self-satisfied smile as he nods. That is how it should be.

*

The clearest memory Regulus has that was of his earliest years was when he was six years old and lost. He had left his mother and brother's eyes and somehow lost them in the crowd of people. 

He remembers vividly, the feeling of being scared and lost as no one paid a second mind to the child who sat against a shop, watching as everyone passed by him without a second glance.

The creeping feeling of fear, how he was unable to cry because his father had chased the tears out of him as early since his birth and he could only sweat profusely and shiver violently.

Perhaps if he had cried, someone would've crouched by his side and helped him like he was any normal lost child, but Regulus is a Black first and foremost and he must carry himself like one so he does not even think about asking or crying for help, he only shivers and sweats quietly in that little corner of his, as if he weren't lost and everyone passed by him.

He wondered if his mother even cared. His mind wondered if he had been abandoned on purpose, that he simply was not a good enough son that his mother wanted and had discarded. 

Regulus wondered if they were searching for him. Would Sirius? He was nice, gave him candy and kissed him goodnight like a mother would, but did he truly care, Regulus questioned himself doubt flooding like lead. 

It takes a half an hour before his mother finds him and she has pursed lips and crossed arms. Regulus is only six, but he knows that magic is strong enough to find Regulus easily, in just a second it takes with a flick of a wand and a mutter of a spell.

But he does not say anything about it, he only gets up, patting the dust off his clothes and getting up without as much as a tear or a cry. 

"Let's go," His mother briskly says and he answers back with a nod, walking towards her despite his wobbly, shaking knees. 

He is a Black, he does not cry. 

But his brother does. 

There were many things Regulus remembers from that day, the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, the pursed lips his mother had, the distinct memory of ice cream being sold near him, but the most vivid moment he remembers clearly were his brothers tears and hiccups as he hugged Regulus close, stopping between hiccups to sniffle.

Regulus' robes had been wet because of him and their father was always displeased with even a crease on their robes, but Regulus found that he did not care at all. 

"Regulus," His brother cries. "I kept trying to look for you but mother wouldn't let me." 

"That was unnecessary. I already knew he was safe. We could've stayed longer for your books," Their mother sighs behind them and Regulus ignores her in favor of hugging his brother back.

Perhaps his brother really does care and family is not such a fantastical word that does not apply to Regulus, perhaps he does have a normal family in his brother. No matter how much his brother had been kind to him, his doubts clung onto him because of the Black blood that ran through his brother's veins, the very blood that leaves his parents unfeeling and Regulus almost numbed to everything. 

Maybe his brother was different. 

When they go to Flourish and Blotts, Sirius' grip on his own hand is so tight and warm and Regulus wants to hold hands forever, wants this feeling of being cared for to be ingrained into his whole being. Attachment was not becoming of a Black, his father used to say, but Regulus does not care anymore not as much as he did, minutes ago. 

Perhaps, Regulus thinks now, in hindsight, this is where it all began. The obsession, the choking need, and the blossoming tendrils of desire. 

*

Hogwarts rips his brother away, forcibly and hatefully.

Regulus hates Hogwarts, he hates Dumbledore, he hates his parents, he hates just how _pleased_ Sirius had looked when he had gotten his letter as if he were not going to just abandon him, but most of all, he hates Gryffindor.

Out of all the houses, Sirius had landed in, it had to be Gryffindor, the very house that makes their father's lips curl and their mother screech and sob. It is terribly loud and Regulus often gets caught in the crossfire and a lecture about how he had to be the one to carry on the Black legacy and land himself in Slytherin, unlike his black sheep of a brother.

Regulus watches silently and without a fuss as his mother sends howler after howler to his brother. 

Sometimes, his father spills the most biting and hating words about Sirius to him and Regulus hates his father, but he is also angry at Sirius for leaving so easily and landing himself against every his family stood for, his family including Regulus. Not that he could ever hate his brother though, all he felt was anger, but never hate for the entire world that Regulus had felt, only anger, aching want, and the desire to see him once more.

The letters that Sirius sends aren't enough. They are frequent in the beginning, once a week, but gradually, they move towards being sent every two weeks, which agitate Regulus so. They do nothing to placate any of his worries either because all Sirius writes about is James Potter and Regulus despises this boy who has taken up Regulus' spot so easily in just a few months. 

Regulus and Sirius has spent years together and James Potter had shattered everything so easily just by his existence alone. Regulus wishes he were older, that he had boarded the train with his brother instead of seeing his go farther and farther away from his grasp, being stuck with his parents. 

He wants to keep Sirius to himself, to watch this James Potter die in the most wretched ways possible, for his parents to go and get themselves killed far away from Regulus and Sirius 

Regulus wants to be with Sirius in their little Utopia. 

He counts down the days until the holidays, until Sirius comes back home, but so does his parents. 

When it is the holidays, Sirius does not come all morning, nor afternoon. Regulus gashes his teeth, digging his nails into his palms deeper and deeper every second that went by. 

It's not until late at night that the door swings open and his father does not skip a beat in his yells and his beatings, pulling on the red and yellow tie that wrapped itself around Sirius' neck before throwing it into the fireplace. Their mother merely watches with a self-satisfied nod, as if justice had been served.

It's not until midnight that his father allows Sirius to go to his room and Sirius goes with his head down but Regulus knows that Sirius is glaring underneath the hair strands that block his face. When Sirius enters the room, he all but collapses into the bed. 

"Reg," He says weakly. "Sorry I was late. Got held up." 

Regulus swallows his saliva and merely looks at Sirius. He looks at every cut, every bruise and Regulus wondered how many beatings Sirius had taken for him and of how many more Sirius was willing to take for him. 

"Does it hurt a lot?" Regulus asks, his eyes never leaving the injuries scattered along Sirius.

Sirius laughs. "No, never. Father hits like a kitten. He certainly cannot greet people properly, if this is the greeting I get after not being home for a few months." 

The answer was always the same whenever Regulus had asking him the same question every time Sirius got a beating when he talked back or defended Regulus. No, Sirius said every time. It did not hurt. 

He was too stubborn to admit it hurt to their father and he was too kind to tell Regulus it hurt whenever he took hits for him, so all he did was bare it.

"Don't look" was what he'd always tell Regulus, would tell him to close his eyes, plug his ears in with his fingers and count to a hundred aloud in whispers. It thrilled Regulus whenever he said that, that Sirius cared more about Regulus than his own self, who had sacrificed so much for Regulus. 

Regulus stays quiet and merely looks at Sirius, who was in the midst of healing his wounds while swallowing a potion. He's never made potions before to heal his wounds, it must've been something from Hogwarts, and that makes Raoul's stomach furl and he hates Hogwarts so much for being the cause of Sirius' departure and abandonment.

"How is Hogwarts?" Regulus asks, his throat dry and his tongue feeling like lead in his mouth as he fiddled with his thumbs. It was not very Black-like to do such a thing, but Regulus could not find it in himself to sit still like father would say. 

At the question, Sirius' face perks up and Regulus wants to tell him to stop, regrets asking the question. How could a damn school be more important than his younger brother. 

"It's amazing, Reg," Sirius says as he takes Regulus' shoulders into his hands excitedly. His happy chatter fades into nothingness to Regulus, though, as if muted by water. Regulus wondered what was so good about Hogwarts. There was nothing of importance in that school and if their parents allowed it so, they could've been tutored by teachers instead of leaving the mansion and going to that wretched school. 

Regulus wonders why that school was so special to Sirius, even without Regulus besides him.

"Why don't you introduce James to me someday, brother. He's a pure blood so neither father nor mother will have any qualms about it. I'd love to see your best friend, brother." 

"I don't think... I... Maybe not so suddenly," Sirius stumbles over his words, in a non-graceful way that Regulus had never seen on Sirius before, unbecoming of a Black. 

"And why not?" 

Regulus watches as hesitation befalls on Sirius and he feels the familiar tinge of scorching, hot anger bubbling inside him, like magma. "It seems you do not care for me anymore brother, not as much as you care for him anyways." 

Jerking, Sirius looks at Regulus wide wide eyes and scrunched brows. "No, Regulus, that's not it at all. It's just... I haven't told him about father or mother yet. He knows you though, of course. I've mentioned you often, but mother and father would surely..." He trails off and Regulus looks at him scrutinizing and considering. 

"It's alright, brother. I understand," Regulus says, his mood considerably soured. He goes to bed, the blanket covering his whole being in one tug and he does not dare look at his brother in the face anymore. "We'll talk about this tomorrow. I'm tired." 

"I apologize, Reg. I know I was late but--" 

"As I've said, it's alright. You've apologized a lot lately." 

"..." 

Regulus bit his lips at the lack of response and pretended to be falling asleep. Sirius knew most of his tells, he'd know when he was faking sleep, but that was the past Sirius. Present Sirius had not seen him for the longest time yet and he had clearly not cared to find out either. Perhaps this Sirius knew the Potter boy's tells more than he knew his own brother's now.

Irritation was ever so persistent and Regulus did not peek out from underneath his covers, but he heard no sound from Sirius, meaning he was still standing there, helplessly. 

"I almost didn't cone. I didn't want to come at all," Sirius grumbles underneath his breath, almost so low that Regulus couldn't hear it if he didn't concentrate enough. "But I couldn't leave you alone with them for the whole year. I missed you deeply. Please, Reg. I know you aren't sleeping."

So he knew. Regulus stays still for a few more minutes before his heart softened. He was angry at him, but he still loved him and he had not seen him at all before this, he did not want their limited time together to be spoiled so easily because of the Potter boy. He did not want to let Potter's influence over Sirius extend to the holidays as well, not when Regulus was besides Sirius where he rightfully belonged.

Wordlessly, Regulus lowers the covers so his head peaked out and pulls back the covers from the left of him, opening a space for another. The beg was smaller than it was when comparatively to when they were younger, but it was still big enough to fit the two of them as their father certainly liked to flaunt his wealth and every furniture furnished in their house was big and expensive.

He pats the empty space besides him. "Sleep."

Beaming, Sirius nods and quickly slips into the empty space quickly and quietly. "Good night" he whispers underneath his breath and he must've been more tired than he let on because he falls asleep instaneously.

Previously, when they had been young and Regulus had Sirius all to himself, Sirius would wrap his arms around his whenever they slept, like a comforting blanket that kept Regulus safe from all the dangers from everything, the monsters Regulus feared, their parents, everything.

Now, looking at Sirius, Regulus leans forward and wraps Sirius around his own hands. It doesn't go around him fully like Sirius' would because Regulus arms are too small and not big enough, but still, this time he is the one who wraps his arms around Sirius.

It was not one of protection though, not the same arms that wrapped around himself that was like a protective warmth. His own was one that clung onto Sirius, possessive and tight, as if preventing him from leaving. Regulus does not want Sirius to leave him again like he already did for Hogwarts, he wants Sirius forever within his grasps, within sight, and by his side constantly like they always used to be. 

The tendrils of want cling stubbornly onto Regulus, but it is not as if he pushes the feelings away either. He allows it to fester and grow, consuming him whole without a second thought. 

If Sirius' grasp was protective and gentle, his bigger arms protecting him, then his own was like a cage, tight and controlling. 


End file.
